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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



THROUGH THE 
MISTS 



BY 



LILLIAN BARKER BEEDE 



Newport Publishing Company 
1910 






Copyright 1910, by Lillian Barker Beedb 



C CIA 278877 



i 

3-: 

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■ >e 



THERE'S ONLY ONE THING IN THIS WORLD 

OF OURS, THAT, 

LIKE THE SOUL OF MAN 

GOD HATH ENDOWED WITH IMMORTALITY, 

AND THAT IS LOVE 



Sorrow Songs 

A little bird in his forest home 

Twittered the happy morning through, 

Nor stopped for song as on busy wing 
Hither and yon it gaily flew. 

The Forest Spirit then called to him, 
"Sing, little bird, the song of songs 

I gave to you when I gave you life, 
For to the forest it belongs." 

The Voice unheeding a nest he built, 

Flitting about in sweet content; 
He twittered love to his happy mate, 

While to the West the morning went. 

The twilight creeping down forest trails, 
Paused as a flood of music rang 

Across the hills in a pure, sweet strain, 
Straight from the heart of him who sang. 

The little bird by his nest alone 

Singeth a requiem o'er a grave, 
(For 'neath the bluebells his mate lies dead), 

Singeth the song the Spirit gave. 



DEDICATION 

Hh*5* 

To the Memory of my Husband, 
Charges Goued Beede 

Sweet Poet, when thy broken harp 

Lay silenced by the Master's hand, 
When thrilled no more its slender strings 

By passion's flaming pinions fanned, 
Then up from valley, hill and plain, 

And swelling upward from the sea, 
There rose a sweet and solemn strain, 

As nature's children mourned for thee. 

Thy soul communed with theirs and felt 

A kindred sympathy and love; 
Beside their sacred altars knelt, 

Thy heart enkindled from above. 
Because thy harp so finely wrought 

The heart-beat of a violet, 
Upon its throbbing strings it caught, 

They crowned thee poet-laureate. 

Then when thy minstrel harp could voice 

No longer nature's undertone, 
No more in joy with her rejoice, 

Nor make her sorrows, too, thine own, 
Then like a mother o'er her child 

She mourned for thee that autumn day; 
The western wind low-winged and wild 

The tidings bore along its way. 

—7- 



The brooks and rivers you had veiled 

In moon-lit mists of silver song, 
Uncomforted thy loss bewailed 

To flower-flecked fields they passed along. 
Great dewy tears the morning wept, 

Remembering how you praised her blush; 
Thy own loved twilight vigil kept, 

Enshrouding day in solemn hush. 
The flowers that shared each fragrant thought 

With thee, their petals closed in prayer; 
The birds whose music you had caught, 

With plaintive twitters teased the air; 
The mountains that in song you praised 

As "Nature's Stairway of the So»l," 
Their hoary heads in reverence raised, 

Crowned with a snowy aureole. 

And she who tuned thy harp for thee, 

And made thy soul with rapture thrill,. 
Thy music-mother, yonder sea, 

Mourned for thee then, mourns for thee still, 
She sang thy infant lullabys, 

Sweet Poet, in those days of yore, 
And now thy requiem she sighs 

Along New England's barren shore. 

Now Nature locks her door again; 

No poet's pen shall be the key 
To open up her heart to men, 

Unsung she grieves and mourns for thee. 
We'll lay thy broken harp away, 

Its voice of melody has flown; 
Perhaps in Paradise some day, 

Thy harp's sweet soul shall find thy own. 

THE AUTHOR 



THROUGH THE MISTS 



Beat Soft, Beat Low 
M 

Beat soft, beat low, O sorrowful sea, 

On the lonely sands I tread, 
For soft and low beats the heart of me, 

In a requiem for my dead. 

O break, sad waves, the grim, rocky shore 

Never heeds thy passion-cry; 
Thus breaks my heart for its love-dream o'er, 

As the wings of Death sweep by. 

Sing on, brave sea, though over thee roll 
Shrouding mists that blur the sun; 

So rose a song from my own sad soul, 
Though a veil between us swung. 

Take heart for still the sun shines above 
All the gloom-winged clouds, O sea; 

Be brave, my heart, for thy dear one's love 
Waits beyond the mists for thee. 



11- 



Blow, Breezes, Gently Blow 

Blow softly, sweet breezes, from fair southern skies, 
Where beauty lies languid with dream-lidded eyes; 
Blow gently and bear on your wings the perfume, 
The honey-sweet breath of the magnolia bloom; 

Oh linger, sweet breezes, and shake from your pinions 
The scent of the Southland, of love's own dominions, 
Here, where he lieth low, 
Blow, breezes, gently blow, 
Blow, gefitly blow. 

Blow softly, sweet breezes, with songs in your throats, 
The pure haunting echoes of mockingbirds' notes; 
The music that rises in deep mellow tones 
From souls born in sorrow, 'neath lashes and groans; 
Loved songs of the Southland in dreamy-sweet numbers, 
Whose dear spirit- voices disturb not his slumbers, 
Here, where he lieth low, 
Sing, breezes, soft and slow, 
Sing, soft and slow. 



-12 



"I'll Tell My Love for You-Someday' 

if 

When flowing like a silver stream, 

June flooded all the earth with flowers, 
Her passion-waves thrilled through our hearts 

And swept the minutes into hours. 
We climbed the little winding path 

That mounted like an angel-stair 
The golden glory of the hills, 

And in the merry morning there 
He smiled into my shining eyes 

In love's own satisfying way, # 
But only this could win from me — 

"I'll tell my love for you — someday." 

The years like shining links of gold 

Upon the endless chain of time, 
Slipped through our hands and trailed behind, 

With youth and beauty in their prime. 
We wandered back from other scenes, 

To stand at love's first starting place; 
With slower steps we climbed the hills; 

He smiling looked into my face, 
And called me "wife," then whispered low 

That querry in the same sweet way; 
1 answered with a happy laugh — 

"I'll tell my love for you — someday." 

-13- 



Once more life's golden links slip by, 

And time reclaims again its own; 
In sable robes I now return 

To climb the little path alone. 
I stumble up its winding ways, 

With weary feet and misting eyes; 
I know no other spot on earth 

Can lift me nearer to the skies. 
And standing here his spirit-voice 

Drops sweetly down the starry way; 
My answering heart sobs, "Over there 

I'll tell my love for you — someday." 



My Choice 

■* 

If there should come from mystic realms of light 

A Heaven-sent messenger to offer me 

A Croesus-heritage on land and sea, 
Or, if I wealth and its attendant might 
Disdained, to give me power my name to write 

Upon fame's scroll for ages yet to be; 

Or proffer wisdom of such high degree 
That mind could solve life's problems all right; 
Or 'gainst these three a promise that the door 

That shuts my soul from thine might open swing, 

And thou to earth return for one brief day — 
Wealth, fame, and wisdom quickly passing o'er, 

I'd choose that day, love's thirsting heart I'd bring 

For thee to fill ere passed those hours away. 

—14— 



If-Then 

M 

If I could call them back — those dear dead days, 

Those happy days of yore; 
If there could be no parting of the ways — 

No closed and silent door 
Between us, dear: 
If I could look again into your eyes and see 

That sweet caressing smile; 
If love's impassioned voice so dear to me 

For just a little while 
Might bless my ear: 

Then for thy own dear sake henceforth I'd live, 

And know there could not be 
A greater joy on earth than just to give 

My life and all to thee 
In love's sweet ways; 
Then never should one word or deed or thought 

Love's tender tribute lack; 
Down at thy feet I'd lay all life has brought — 

If I could call them back — 
Those dear dead days. 



15- 



On the River 
M 

I was drifting down the river, 

Where the white cloud-islands lie 
On its wavering breast reflected 

From the ocean of the sky. 
Through the dreamy autumn silence 

Shot a silver shaft of song, 
That within my heart found lodgement, 

As I idly moved along. 

And I saw the singer floating, 

In the shadows by the shore, 
All the rich, pure tones outpouring 

From the wounded heart he bore; 
Like an angel-breath the music 

Swept the harp-strings of my soul, 
And to him across the water, 

Echo-winged an answer stole. 

Then he came from out the shadows, 

And we drifted side by side, 
With the sunshine all around us, 

Down the stream with wind and tide; 
And our hearts were filled with gladness, 

While we caroled with the birds, 
Then were hushed to tender silence 

With our souls too full for words. 

-16- 



Speeding hours to days were lengthened, 

Then the days o'erlapped the years; 
Comrades still we rode together, 

Sharing both our smiles and tears; 
Oftentimes the storm-clouds darted 

Frowns of anger from above; 
Clasping hands we drew still closer, 

Spirit-bound in trusting love. 

But the tempest burst upon us, 

In one dark and dreadful hour, 
Tossed our fragil barks like drift-weed, 

Held us helpless in its power. 
When the morning dawned in splendor 

Over river, vale, and hill, 
By my side a wrecked boat drifted, 

And the songster's voice was still. 

But his dear gray e3^es were smiling 

Into mine with tender light. 
And a strange new courage lingered 

In his face so wan and white; 
Then I drew his wrecked bark nearer, 

Leashed it fast unto my own, 
As I nerved my soul to battle 

With the storm and wave alone. 

Thus we drifted on together, 

And our spirits sorrow-taught, 
Found a deeper, richer blessing 

Than the care-free hours had brought. 
Clearer grew his soul-lit vision, 

He could see the distant shore, 
And he voiced its peace-bound beauty 

With a strain from Heaven-writ score. 

-17- 



Then a strange, dark mist came stealing 

From the 6hore to meet our boats, 
An appalling fear stole o'er us, 

Hushed the singer's silvery notes; 
And a mighty hand outreaching, 

Drew his boat from mine apart, 
Tore our clinging hands asunder, 

Rent in twain each tortured heart. 

Loud I cried in bitter anguish 

As I saw him disappear, 
And he, hearing, paused to answer 

With a tender word of cheer; 
Then the heavy silence crashing 

All the sweetness from my soul, 
Held me back when I would follow 

To the distant unknown goal. 

Lone and desolate I'm drifting, 

Listening for his dipping oar, 
Longing for an echo only, 

From that far mist-hidden shore; 
And I search the empty shadows 

With a weary, vague unrest, 
Calling softly through the twilight, 

But in vain my eager quest. 

Yet my heart has told me truly 

That his spirit hovers near, 
Though my flesh-veiled eyes see nothing, 

And my ears no whisper hear; 
When my wave-worn bark drifts shoreward, 

And the glory-lighted goal 
I behold through lifting shadows, 

Then I'll meet him soul to soul. 

-18- 



I Know Not Why 

I know not why my heart has grown 
So strangely still, when it has known 
The sweetest melodies of song 
That to the earth and Heavens belong; 
When from each passion-thrilling string 
It sang the song the angels sing; 
I know not why, I know not how, 
I only know 'tis silent now. 

I know not why my heart should sigh 
When youth and joy go tripping by, 
It still refuses to grow old; 
It knew more joy than life could hold, 
But now its joy is turned to pain, 
And tear-drops fall like summer rain; 
I know not why, I know not how, 
I only know it sorrows now. 

I know not why my heart lies there, 

A shell, untenanted and bare, 

For love and all her joyous train 

Once dwelt within its sweet domain 

And blessed each happy thought that flew 

From you to me, from me to you; 

I know not why, I know not how, 

I only know 'tis empty now. 



1S> 



If I Had Only Known 
M 

Oh if I had only known, dear heart, 

Of the parting sorrow and pain, 
Of the joyless days and the endless ways, 

Ere our lives were one again — 
I'd have been more kind and thoughtful, dear, 

In the careless hours now flown, 
I'd have told you more of the love I bore, 

If I had only known. 

Oh if I had only known, dear heart, 

Of the dreary silence to be, 
When thy voice no more as in days of yore 

Spoke in loving words to me — 
I'd have been content to listen, dear, 

To no voice but thine alone, 
And no angry word had you ever heard, 

If I had only known. 

Oh if I had only known, dear heart, 

Love alone makes life worth the while, 
Then the soul of love from the Heavens above, 

Should have brightened every smile — 
Oh but now I know, I know it, dear, 

All the debt of love I owe — 
It awaits you here in my full heart, dear, 

For now I shall always know. 



-20- 



I Would Not Call Thee Back 

I would not call thee back, dear heart, 

To tread earth's narrow ways, 
To feel life's anguish and its pain, 

As in those other days. 
I know that just beyond the veil 

Thy soul awaits my own, 
That Heaven to thee is incomplete, 

While I am here alone. 

Thy full-fledged soul long since outgrew 

Its earthly nesting place, 
And would have flown on eager wings, 

To meet Him face to face, 
Had not I chained it with my tears, 

Encaged it in my heart, 
Imploring time, to pass us by, 

Nor rend our lives apart. 

Ah no, I would not call thee back, 

Love whispers and I know, 
Thy seeking spirit finds all that 

It longed for here below. 
I cannot wish thee back, dear heart, 

So now my prayer must be, 
That He will make life's journey short, 

And take rne Home to thee. 



•il 



A Mourner's Prayer 

M 

I do not seek, dear Lord, again to see 

That memory-treasured face to me so dear, 
Nor do I ask that earth-clogged ears may hear 

That voice that thrilled the very soul of me; 

I dare not pray, dear Lord, that I may go 
Down with the sunset, out across the rim 
Into eternity in search of him; 

I only ask that I may feel and know 

That in the spirit he is ever near, 

As when on earth, though sometimes far apart, 
His tender living presence filled my heart 

And banished every longing, every tear. 

I only ask through peace of soul to feel 

He sees, he knows, he understands each need, 

And watches o'er each thought, each word, each deed; 

This is the presence, Lord, I pray, reveal — 

An ever present sense of love and care, 
A recognition through this soul of mine, 
As satisfying, definite as Thine 

Has been to me; this is, O Lord, my prayer. 



Because You Missed Me So 

(The Invalid) 

I saw your face at the window, dear, 

When I turned to say good-bye, 
I saw the smile that you meant me to see, 

I saw the tear in your eye; 
I know you thought it was hidden, dear, 

And that I would never know 
The pain that burned in your heart all day, 

Because you missed me so. 

I met your smile with another, dear, 

And I waved a ga}' farewell, 
Then I turned away that you never might know 

I caught your tear as it fell; 
It burned its way to my own heart, dear, 

With its wordless wail of woe; 
My heart-strings throbbed with the pain of yours, 

Because you missed me so. 

Though all must go to the battle, dear, 

And must fight till day is done, 
You'll never find all the heroes are there, 

To claim the victory won; 
For some lie wounded within the camp, 

Who can only watch and pray 
For comrades fighting up near the front, 

No braver men than they. 

-23- 



I'll look for you at the window, dear, 

When I hasten home tonight, 
You'll welcome me with a sweet, tender smile, 

The tears will hide out of sight; 
But I will know of the long hours, dear, 

When the dial hands were slow, 
And heart grew faint with the waiting, dear, 

Because you missed me so. 



M 

O Boatman, Row Me Away 

M 

O Boatman, thou with the silent oar, 

Row me away from this barren shore; 

Oh haste, my love on the cold gray sea. 

The rolling wave bears away from me; 

O Boatman, row me along his trail, 

Where stars grow dim and the moon grows pale; 

A holy hush hangs above the deep, 

And cradl'ing billows lull life to sleep. 

O Boatman, haste, row me out to him, 

Ere fades his bark o'er the ocean's rim; 

Oh blow, ye winds, with the tempest-breath, 

And speed our boat on the wings of Death, 

To silent deeps on the great Gray Sea, 

Where drifts my love to Eternity. 

O Boatman, thou with the muffled oar, 

Come row me out from this lonely shore. 



■24- 



A Requiem of Roses* 

I bring the red roses you love, dear, 

Red roses a-sparkle with dew, 
That passionate sunbeams above, dear, 

Have kissed into blossom for you: 
And this message of love I enclose, dear, 
In the heart of each beautiful rose, dear: 

We shall meet in the sweet someday, 
When the mists from my soul roll away, 
Happy tears blot the years I have lost, 
In my joy I'll forget what they cost, 

Someday, someday, 
We shall meet in the sweet someday. 

I strew the red roses you love, dear, 
A-sparkle with tears o'er your grave, 

And pray that your soul from above, dear, 
May whisper the greeting I crave 

Through the heart of my roses, and may, dear, 

Turn the night of my sorrow to day, dear: 

"We shall meet in the sweet someday, 
When the mists from your soul roll away, 
Happy tears blot the years we have lost, 
In our joy we'll forget what they cost, 

Someday, someday, 
We shall meet in the sweet someday." 



♦By permission of the owner, P. P. Bilhorn. 
-25- 



The Spirit-Call 

A wide expanse of billowy prairie grasses; 

A wind-blown sky with cloud-veils o'er the blue; 
The straggling, vagrant raindrops earthward falling; 

A mud-hen mourning in a distant slough. 
A little child the tall, coarse grasses parting, 

With fearless feet plods through the pathless way; 
She cannot see the father she would follow — 

The sighing reeds around her bid her stay. 
She pauses where the yellow cowslips glimmer 

In golden blotches from their watery bed; 
The bridgeless pond across her pathway stretches; 

Relentless clouds are frowning overhead: 
Her tear-tuned voice rings out across the water, 

The friendly zephyrs wing it to the ears 
Of one who hearing, turns, the trail retraces, 

And bears her safely over — stills her fears. 

A lonely woman on a lonely pathway; 

Life's fallen leaves her sable mantle sweeps; 
The moaning pines her vanished hopes bewailing, 

Blot out the sky above her as she weeps; 
Unmindful of the din of busy voices, 

Whose strident tones from dusty highways roll, 
She stumbles on, her deaf ears hearing only 

The spirit-call that echoes in her soul. 
She stands at last beside a mist-bound river, 

With well-known footprints on the nearer shore, 
And just beyond, within the purpling shadows, 

Her widowed heart beholds its mate once more. 
A grief-impassioned cry, then dumb outreaching 

Of arms across the bridgeless, boatless wave — 
A spirit-answer — then life's grand awakening, 

Within the arms of love, beyond the grave. 



26 



Today and Yesterday 
M 

The colorless dawn of today, love, 

As it steps o'er the threshold of night, 
So pale and so cheerless, so gray, love, 

Chills my heart with its cold shrouded light; 
I see the day stretching before me 

Like a path through a drear, barren land, 
And sorrow, hawk-winged, hovering o'er me, 

As alone on that pathway I stand; 
But I live not in today or tomorrow, love, 
For they are blighted with tears and with sorrow, love, 
I live in the yesterday. 

My yesterday's rare golden splendor 

Dawned with love in rose-radiant skies; 
Hands clasped, hearts united and tender, 

We together, with love-lighted eyes, 
Went forward to follow the morning 

In the trail of the westering sun; 
Fair blossoms the pathway adorning 

Bloomed for us till that sweet day was done; 
So I live not in today or tomorrow, love, 
For they are blighted with tears and with sorrow, love, 
I live in the yesterday. 



27 



Two Roses 

M 

I have found the rose that you brought me dear, 

In the yesterday of years; 
'Twas love's first red rose and my sad heart glows 
Once again with love that you taught me dear; 

Yet I cannot stay the tears, 
For the crumbling leaves of this faded flower 

Spring to life and blushing red, 
The soft petals part and there on its heart, 
Memory-pictured, lies life's supremest hour, 

When your eyes and rose both said, 
Though your lips were dumb, "Oh, I love you, dear," 

And I felt the wild sweet thrill 
Of that spark divine in this heart of mine, 
As the heavens bent smiling above you, dear, 

And the listening worlds grew still. 

Now the petals close o'er its heart once more, 

And the deep red fades to gray, 
And my spirit grieves o'er its withered leaves, 
For that joyous love of those days of yore 

That from me has passed away. 
In the loom of time, unskilled hands to guide, 

To and fro my shuttle sped 
With a tangled skein of life's joy and pain; 
But the faulty patterns you glorified, 

When you wove in love's gold thread. 
And I find love-lines, growing dim with age, 

Wrapped about the sweet, dead bloom; 
Though a halting rhyme and a faltering time, 
'Tis the breath of love on the written page, 

And its perfume fills my room. 

-28- 



Then my eyes are veiled with a mist of tears, 
And another rose I see; 
'Tis the same blush tint that the sunlight's glint 
Brought to this dead rose of those love-linked years, 

That, sweetheart, you gave to me; 
And this other rose bears a message, too, 
In its fragrant, deep-red heart — 
'Tis the love my soul, when between us roll 
Voiceless silences, would uplift to you 

Where you dwell from me apart; 
And I've laid this rose there above you, dear, 
At the doorway closed to me, 
With a longing prayer that you'll find it there, 
And will hear its whispered 'T love you, dear," 
Echo through eternity. 



Jfi 



The Empty Glass 
M 

My life was like an empty glass, dear heart, 
That stood upon the shelf of time apart; 

You came and filled it with the wine of Love, 
We pledged, we drank — then Death bade you depart. 

Ah yes, the glass is drained, but O the thought 
That once 'twas brimming with the wine you brought 

Will quench the thirst of all the desert years, 
And bless the emptiness that Death has wrought. 



-29- 



The After-Glow 
M 

The evening sky glows with a mellowy splendor 
Of soft opal tints in the glory-crowned light; 

The river reflecting his radiant beauty 

Long after the sun has slipped down out of sight. 

So, Love, while the twilight of sorrow glooms round me, 
A sweet, silver light is aglow in my breast, 

Where lieth reflected thy soul's lustrous beauty, 

Though you with the sun have gone down in the West. 



M 



Easter Reflections 

The stone from the tomb of our risen Lord, 

The angels rolled away; 
The grief that lies like a stone on my heart 

Grows heavier each day. 

The loved one I mourn with the Lord arose, 

From Death's enshrouding gloom; 
The stone that rolled from his sepulcher closed 

My life within a tomb. 

'Twas Life that unsealed for the Lord His grave, 

And Life my love set free; 
But only Death can remove the weight 

Of grief that entombeth me. 

-30- 



Love's Immortality 
M 

Oh seek not to comfort my sorrow, bewailing 

With kind, tender voices my 'loved and my lost;' 

"Love never is lost" cries my spirit unfailing, 

Though stricken with pain in my heart's holacaust. 

The passion of love for the dear ones we cherish, 
Fades not into twilight when life sinks to rest, 

'Tis only the semblance of love if it perish, 
Is lost on oblivion's sea in the west. 

Love were not love unless love were immortal, 
Endowed like the soul with a life after time, 

Empowered to pass smiling through Night's glooming portal, 
And reach its completion in Love the Sublime. 

Rob sorrowing hearts — that courageous endeavor 

To reach Faith's white light as tear-blinded they grope 

Of love's sweet reunion forever and ever, 

You tear from the soul its one blossom of hope. 

I mourn for my loved, but there gleams through my sorrow 
A blessed assurance, through tears like a smile, 

That there at the gate-way of life's sweet tomorrow, 
Love waiteth my coming in God's afterwhile. 



31- 



Sympathy 

Jf 

I feel the loving sympathy, dear friend, 

Your lips are longing to express: 
The consolation that you would extend 

In kindly words, I can but guess; 
And yet I bolt the entrance to my heart — 

My bitter grief I cannot share; 
Like some sick creature of the wild, apart 

From all I would my sorrow bear. 
My lacerated heart too tender yet 

To bear upon its broken strings 
The breath of speech; still, I would not forget 

Nor lightly prize the love that brings 
You to my side, to help me bear my loss; ■ 

But hovering near the border-land 
'Twixt Life and Death, my longing soul would cross 

And follow that dear beckoning hand. 
E'en sympathy like yours could never stay 

My spirit-flight, nor clip the wings, 
That brushing earth's obscuring clouds away, 

Seek Love to mend life's broken strings. 



■32- 



A Bit of Green Sod 
JC 

There's a bit of green sod over yonder 

On the sunny side of the hill, 
Where the moon-arrows fall in the evening 

When the world lies dreamy and still. 

There's a sad, weary heart that is breaking 

Over here, alone in my room, 
When the shadows of evening embrace me 

In the crushing arms of the gloom. 

In my heart there's a great empty chamber, 
Where a hollow-voiced echo jeers 

At the music that memory's ringers 
Strive to chord from happier years. 

Friend, you say you can share in my sorrow, 
And you bring a promise and prayer, 

But there's only one passport admits you, 
'Tis a bit of sod over there. 

If you own a green grave over yonder, 
Then you understand, arid your pain 

Touches mine and the barriers are melted 
Like the winter snow by the rain. 



Sorrow 

Jg 

I am Sorrow, 

My sable wings 
Brush the gladness 

And smiles from things. 
Unwelcomed I tarry, 

Unmourned I go 
Down my desolate 

Pathway of woe. 
Yet I've a mission 

On earth — to you, 
I teach human sympathy 

Tender and true; 
You greet sister Joy 

With more love in your heart, 
Since I have dwelt with you, 

And when I depart 
That gloom that enfolds you 

In blackness of night, 
To twilight is brightened 

By Faith's steady light. 



-34 



I am Sorrow, 

I wring the tears 
From hearts that must suffer 

When Death appears 
And blows out the taper, 

Which under the sod 
He hides, while the soul-flame 

Flashes upward to God, 
Yet a Heaven-born soul 

Is my father — Death, 
With the blessing of God 

In his hope-blasting breath, 
For the flame of life 

That he blows above, 
Is the beaeon-light 

For the eyes of love, 
And twinkles in glory 

From Heaven's bright dome, 
To guide halting footsteps 

Unerringly home. 



35- 



While All the Village Sleeps 

I'm sitting in the twilight, dear, 

The golden day has fled, 
And Night her dusky, star-sprent robe, 

On hill and town has spread; 
The moonlight paints a silvery bridge 

Across the river's deeps, 
And o'er it speed my thoughts to thee, 

While all the village sleeps. 

On yonder distant shore I see 

In purple outline rise, 
The wooded hills like sentries grim, 

Against the starry skies; 
A longing then for home and thee, 

Into my lone heart creeps, 
I sit and dream of thee and love, 

While all the village sleeps. 

The days are growing long, dear heart, 

Each week a thousand years; 
Love calls to me, "Come home! come home!" 

My heart is drenched in tears; 
But still I wait and pray and know, 

The Father's mercy keeps 
My darling safe, though far away, 

While all the village sleeps. 



36- 



Woman's Dower 
J* 

Two God-like spirits are a woman's dower — 

The one, with stern, pale lips and saddened eyes 
Where an eternity of sorrow lies, 

Endurance she is called, and hers the power 

To suffer and be still; each day, each hour 
To bear with fortitude the hidden grief, 
Nor dare to hope that time will bring relief; 

Her sister spirit, Love, a fragile flower, 

Leans like a trusting child upon her breast, 

A glory beaming in her love-lit eye, 

Life's sweetest roses to her bosom pressed; 

Who, wakened from her dreams would droop and die, 
Did not Endurance her strong wings extend, 
And bear her thro life's journey to the end. 



37- 



In the Valley of Love 
M 

Girded round by rugged mountains, cradled dreaming at their 
feet, 
Heir of Eden's mystic beauty an entrancing Valley lies, 
While like mother-love above it bends the tender, smiling 
skies. 

From its heart a strain of music soars aloft in matins sweet, 
While the timid songster hiding by a fern-embroidered 

stream, 
Tunes her harp to languid measures wand'ring aimless 

through a dream. 

Sweet and clear across the Valley, clarion-voiced an answer 

rings; 
Trembling ferns by amorous breezes in a wild embrace are 

caught; 
Thrills the maiden's heart with wonder as she wakes from 

dreamy thot, 

Hears a faint, low murmuring echo from her harp's vibrating 
strings, 
As though touched by unseen fingers. Ended now his early 
tryst 
With the Dawn, through rosy portals, mantled in a tinted mist 

Steps a form whose radiant beauty fills the maid with shy 
delight; 
All her dreams of love are woven in the fabric of his song; 
All the joy of all the ages to her happy heart belong; 

-38- 



Standing smiling there before her in the morning's golden light, 
Steals his fingers o'er her harp-strings till a flood of music 

rolls 
Unrestrained in waves of passion over both their trembling 
souls. 

Springing up on silver wings, 
Dancing, glancing as it sing- 
Sparkling with the dews of morn, 
Joy on perfumed breezes borne; 
With a vague, confused and hesitating note, 
That breaks and struggles in its muffled throat, 
Doubt tries to sing but cannot catch the tune. 
Then rise the sullen tones of Jealousy and Pain, 

The wailing cry of desolate Despair, 
All flinging discord through the troubled strain, 
That shrieks and grumbles, 
Shrills and stumbles 
In harsh sounds upon the air; 

Till calm and clear the happy voices 
Of Hope and Faith through the song rejoic 
Then the master-hand from each throbbing string, 
Blends the variant notes that the Passions sing, 
Until sweet and pure as an angel-strain, 
Flows the deep low measure of Love's refrain: 
And from heart to heart, and from soul to soul 
All the love-tuned waves of the music roll. 

Through the Vale of Love they wander on together hand in 

hand; 
In each heart the Heaven-wrought music murmurs like a 

virgin's prayer, 
Holy, pure, its tender cadence rears a choral altar there. 

-39 - 



Phoebus drives his flaming chariot where the lofty mountains 
stand 
Rugged, grim, to guard the Valley like some sentinels of old, 
High above their frowning foreheads, down his westering 
trail of gold. 

Thus the hours on joyous pinions come and go like homing 

doves, 
Till the years stretch out behind them like a string of 

priceless pearls, 
While the Spirit of the Valley mystic beauty still unfurls. 

Through a rift between the mountains, clasping close the hand 
she loves, 
She espies a gray sea rolling, she can catch the undertone 
Of a distant boom of music sinking to a sobbing moan. 

Then her comrade's slender fingers flutter 'rnong her harp's 

sweet strings, 
And her heart stands still in terror at the strange new notes 

that fly 
Passion- winged throughout the Valley, darting upward to the 

sky. 

One startled note of wonder; 

And, then, a muffled calm; 
The tense air hushed and breathless 

To catch the next alarm. 
The silence grows oppressive; 

Sound struggles to be free; 
Then a shrill sharp' shriek as of travail, 

That drowns the voice of the sea. 
A wild, fierce cry from the battling soul, 
As the waves of anguish about it roll, 

-40 - 



And the passion of life with tiger claws 
Clings to earth; 
Then a bitter wail of despair 
Rends through the sympathizing air, 
Tears the heart to a thousand shreds; 
Roots up fond memories from their beds, 
Then flings them aside to wither and die, 
With a moan of pain and a broken sigh. 
Silence: and then from the passion-spent strings 
A slender note quivers, grows stronger, then rings 
In a clear note of promise, of faith and of hope, 
Then purer and sweeter and truer and higher, 
Like the silver stream from the refiner's fire, 
It pours from the harp, till an angel-choir 
Charmed by the song of a human clod, 
Sing it again at the throne of God. 

Once to every soul there calleth from afar that spectral Sea, 
And life's footsteps then turn seaward; when the rebellious 

soul grows calm, 
From its harp of love there riseth to its God a glory psalm. 

Through the rift between the mountains, slow they pass though 
memories flee 
Back along the charmed pathway to the love-lit days of yore; 
Now there stretches out before them level lines of 
wave-swept shore. 

Soul and body weak and weary, longing now for peace and 
rest, 
Stands he waiting where the waters hold the land in close 

embrace, 
With a light not mortal shining on his form and on his face. 

-41- 



From the shrouded deeps a white boat slowly drifts out from 
the west, 
By the waves pushed gently shoreward till at last it touches 

land. 
And he steps aboard her waiting for the pilot's low command. 

"Oh so long, so long" his spirit to the silent pilot cries, 

Then beside him Love's low sobbing wakes his misting mind 

again, 
And love's last sweet word is spoken to the muffled Sea's 

"Amen!" 

Then estranging, glooming shadows hide the smiles of friendly 
skies, 
And his spirit-boat drifts slowly with the sinking, ebbing tide, 
Slips away from Life's sweet Valley that his love has 
glorified. 

But along the mystic pathway, out across the unknown deep, 
Uniting their souls forever trails a silver thread of song, 
That each parting league unravels from a heart where 
memories throng. 

Sad and lonely she is waiting where the friendly waters creep 
Up the sloping shore to meet her; but unheeding them she 

peers 
Out into the mist-bound ocean praying softly through her 
tears 

For the silent boat's returning, for a message from the Sea, 
Bidding her embark and follow out where mortal visions fail, 
Out beyond the deep gray shadows, out upon the silvery 
trail. 



-42- 



Two Sister Days 
M 

(April 14, 1897-1908) 

O sad-eyed sister-day of one 
Who wore a glory on her brow, 
Who blessed our happy marriage vow, 

When love's sweet harmonies begun 

Life's joyous song; through tears I view 
Your sombre mien and strange sad face, 
Remembering well your sister's grace, 

When life and love were tender, true, 

In weeping April's dismal skies 

Your sister's smile rainbowed her tears; 
To-day her sunny face appears 

Gloomed by the sorrow in your eyes. 



Love's Recompense 
M 

O love, my tears have washed away 
The blinding dust of other years; 

With clearer vision I behold 
Life's joys and fears. 

How seeming small earth's fretful cares, 
That twine about our spirit-wings, 

And leave us fluttering in the mire 
Of earthly things; 

While overhead the pure, free air 
Of life beyond this mortal clod, 

Unruffled flows through endless space, 
And up to God. 

The Lord of Life twin-spirits sent 
At birth, to bless and closer bring 

Ourselves to Him; thus Soul and Thought 
Fly wing and wing, 

And pierce Death's mystery-woven veil, 
And soul communes with soul once more, 

While thy dear love is glorified 
As ne'er before. 

—44- 



While Soul and Thought are poised with thee, 
One shadow only glooms their wings — 

Too soon must they drop down again 
To earthly things. 

Some day when they have borne me up 

To thy encircling love and care, 
A grave will bar their earthward flight 

And keep me there. 

And keep me there forever, dear, 
Forevermore with God and thee, 

Where rolls the ocean of true love — 
Eternity. 



-45- 



In "The Narrows" 
M 

Speechless I stand between these massive walls 

Whose rugged, jagged rocks zig-zag the blue, 
And fill my soul with wonder and with awe, 

While sight re-paints the memory-scene anew; 
Of quiet Quaker-tinted rocks adorned 

With bits of brighter hue; a filmy veil 
Of flower-tipped vines lies draped across one spot: 

While lower down a fringe of sweet ferns trail 
Their cool green leaves along a stony ledge; 

A tiny speck of blue — a flower-bell swings 
Upon its slender, crevice-rooted stem 

And wakes the memory-echoes as it rings 
Its silent bells. Deep furrowed in the rocks, 

Cut by the torrents from a hundred snows 
That have come sweeping down the hills 

To where the Mississippi's water flows, 
A little brook within the prisoning walls 

Sighs softly to itself, then shouts in glee 
As down a rock-ridged rift it boldly leaps 

In vain and daring effort to be free. 

The solemn grandeur of the silent scene 
Awakes half conscious longings in my soul 

To feel another's heart with rapture thrill, 
As o'er it floods of new-found beauty roll. 



I reach my hand to clasp thine own, dear heart, 

In silent understanding as of yore, 
And turn to catch the glory in your eyes 

That points out beauties unrevealed before; 
Remembering, then, my tear-veiled eyes see but 

Nature's majestic masonry of gloom; 
Great shadowing, over-hanging rocks, 

That hold the narrow road within a tomb; 
Upon my cheek I feel the cold, moist breath 

Of earth where sunlight never falls, and fear 
Chills through my shivering form; and then, 

"Look up, sweetheart," rings softly in my ear. 
Was it a thought that flashed its silvery wings 

An instant through my mind, or did thy voice, 
Thy spirit-voice, respond to my distress, 

And form itself in speech to thus rejoice 
My soul with memory-haunted music? 

It was thy voice that e'en from Heaven, love, 
Must answer to my heart's despairing cry 

And bid my sorrowing soul to look above 
Earth's narrow chasm walls. And now I lift 

Once more my eyes, obeying love's command, 
Far up above "The Narrows' " darkling cliffs 

To where the pine plumes on their foreheads stand; 
And there Love's promise, rainbowed through my tears, 

Rests in a glory-crown of golden light 
Upon the sun-swept peaks; then through the rift 

Of blessed blue my soul climbs up with sight, 
And in the dazzling splendor, love, it greets thine own, 
And earth's bewildering ways I walk no more alone. 



-47- 



Only a Word from One Who Knows 

M 

Only a word to the stricken heart 
Tuned by a pain as its hopes depart, 

Auguish and gloom around it close; 
Only a word from a stranger's pen, 
Written with faltering hand, but then 

Straight from the heart of one who knows. 

Only a word when the shadows fall; 
Answering bravely the Master's call, 

Into the mist the spirit goes; 
Only a word to the ones whose eyes 
Pierce not the veil that between them lies; 

Only a word from one who knows. 

Only a word in a broken strain; 
Heart speaks to heart in hours of pain; 

Out of a grief a kinship grows; 
Only a word, yet it lights the gloom, 
Gives us a vision beyond the tomb; 

HOPE is the word from one who knows. 



-48- 



My Flower of Love 

M 

One day when Love was flying past 
My heart's bare, empty plot, 

He dropped a seed from Paradise 
Upon the barren spot. 

Unknown to me it sprouted there, 

Sent up a tender shoot, 
And deeper in the virgin soil 

Crept down its tiny root. 

The tears of sorrow watered it, 

Love lingered there awhile, 
Until it blossomed sweet and fair 

Beneath his sunny smile. 

Then came a voice from out the skies, 

"Fly higher, lowly Love," 
In answer to his Master's will 

He winged his way above. 

The flower that bloomed within my heart 

Hung drooping on its stem, 
Till Love's sweet spirit set it in 

His Heaven-made diadem. 



49 



In the Shadow of the Mountains 

(Glenwood Springs, Colorado) 

M 

Where lovely Glenwood's mountain peaks 

Zigzag the star-lit blue, 
Enwraped in silence at their feet, 

I slept and dreamed of you; 
And in my dreams I saw you stand 

With thoughtful brow alone: 
And creeping closer slipped my hand, 

Sweetheart, within your own. 

That same quick clasp of other days, 

That held my hand and heart 
A captive to your conquering love, 

Now bade my fears depart. 
Your soul-lit eyes from visions far, 

Returned with sweet caress, 
To smile your reassuring love 

Into my heart's distress. 

Then, in my dreams, upon your hand 

I sobbing bowed my head, 
And told in anguished tones how I 

Had dreamed that you were dead. 
Your tender kisses brushed away 

The tears I shed for you; 
I smiled — then woke to find the dream 

Within the dream was true. 



-50- 



Death 
M 

Death stood before me grim and still and gray, 
With leering lips that muttered of decay; 
One bony finger pointing out the way 

To where an open grave had scarred the sod. 

My eyes met his unwavering, unafraid, 
And then he dropped his mask and stood arrayed 
In Heaven's livery, showed me as I prayed, 
The grave a door-way leading up to God. 



-51 



When Comes the Clarion Call 

I care not how or where, 

It does not matter when 
The trumpet's silvery voice 

Shall sound my life's Amen. 

Finished — my harp's one song; 

Broken its useless strings, 
Since faileth the master-touch; 

Ended the love of things. 

Life's gift of life — to-day — 

In listless dreams I take; 
In Death's tomorrow live 

With heart and soul awake. 

When comes the clarion-call 
From out the mists to me; 

Fadeth away the light, 
Rolleth the darkened sea, 

Then come, O spirit-love, 

No foolish fears be mine, 
If at the close of day, 

My hand be clasped in thine. 

I care not how or when, 

It does not matter where, 
My soul disrobes at last, 

If thou art only there. 

—52— 



/ 



JAN 4 1911 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 



